indecision is a big problem of mine: (you probably got a hint from that last post). I stopped blogging because I decided it was a waste of time. On top of that, I didn’t think anyone cared, or at least I wanted to find out. On top of that, I thought it was probably a waste of time. On top of that, I think so many people that I know have blogs nowadays that between that and Facebook we’re losing our identity apart from the internet. On top of that, it seemed like a waste of time. And maybe I thought I’d run out of things worth saying. So I stopped.
That felt awesome. For a time, I laid aside the greater part of my internet usage. Even now, of all the blogs in my sidebar, there are only a few that I check more than a few times a week. Or year, depending. But then I started feeling guilty about not posting. Like, I’m not really being responsible with my marble-sized sphere of influence. (look, I’ve used possessive pronouns about eighteen times. This is bad.) Then, I thought, “I don’t want to come across like I’ve got nothing to say.” No, that’s pride. It was probably something more like, “Not that anyone cares, but I really wouldn’t be surprised if my humble mind has been drained of ideas. Not that anyone would be wrong for thinking that, but I would not wish…” that doesn’t work either. It sounds like false humility. Maybe if I run it through the thesaurus, it will come across better: “ Not with the intention of any person assiduousness, excluding I actually would not be flabbergasted if my self-effacing psyche has been exhausted of thoughts. Not that somebody would be wide of the mark for philosophizing that, but I would not desire…” that doesn’t even make sense. Okay, suffice it to say, that I really worried that it would look as though I had run out of things to write about. Take it like it is. I’m not sure that’s the best motive. And finally, posting again would at least give me something to do, both to exercise my mind and those hours that are spent in wondering what to do.
Crown me king of rabbit trails. Cause I’ve got a whopper above.
(We’ve interupted this post to give you a special picture)
I guess it’s not always a bad thing to be lost for words. I suppose you heard a lot about the patience of God, if you go to my church, which is probable, and read anything in my sidebar. Well, that’s about the point that I find myself at a loss for words. Looking at God’s longsuffering, amidst our own inner unrest (see last post), pretty much should strike us dumb. God’s patience, which ever engulfs us, in ways far deeper than we can know, is right before us at all times. In His word, and in our lives, and in Christ letting His grace flow through us. But we miss it. It may take a few sermons to stir to the point where everyone talking about it, then, unless grace be given, it is soon forgotten when there is something fresh to think on. Thank God He is patient when our “attention spans” are so short.
I guess the full force of His patience hits us in different ways, depending on where we are. But I’m guessing that it all came at the right time for all of you. God had just brought me through a time of intense focus in all my reading and quiet times, on the weight of the cost that Christ paid (something I’ll talk about in a blog minute). He then showed me afresh the depth of spiritual pride, and how that is manifested in our impatience with Him. We, or I, have a tendency, when God withholds that blessed, tangible sense of His presence which we are familiar with, of becoming proud, demanding our “rights,” and seeking the feeling of Christ rather than Christ Himself. Then God teaches you of His patience, and tells you that your feelings have nothing to do with your need; that we ought to regard His pleasure and purpose as of greater worth than our comfort; and, tying our tongues as it were, that we have sought other loves: but that He, He, after choosing us before the foundations of the world, has yet to break one of HIS promises to us.
Add, last but not least, that God chose this particular time to grip a certain huge idol, which has hide in my heart for years, and intensified over the last few months. And through conviction, and discussion with the pastor, He ripped it out in a way that caused me to feel physically, not to mention spiritually, sick for days.
So, God has shown Himself in a way that my typing would never presume to describe. He is loving in chastisement, patient in the many manifestations of His character, and He rains peace from heaven like little pieces of the sky. And, guiding me more into the unreachable mystery, I am barely getting started.
So I guess I too can say, “I’m finding myself at a loss for words, and the funny thing is, it’s okay.”